13/30- Ghazal

I will jump from the bushes, sneak up behind you, and eat your brain.
I will slide down the chimney, leave you no presents, and eat your brain.

You will not see me marching in army unison on the streets.
You won’t see me coming. I’ll jump from the shadows, deplete your brain.

I will get lessons from zombie Martha Stewart on how to bake,
Cover it in batter, and heat on 350—how sweet, your brain.

I will swallow it on Valentine’s Day until it enters my
Hardened stomach. This is how I love. It makes me complete, your brain.

I will not make a reference to myself while I am eating it.
The undead are not people anymore. I cannot meet your brain.

I must, instead, remain anonymous, and creep behind you with
A prowler’s hands. I make love to the shadows when I eat your brain.